The Spanish Millionaire's Runaway Bride Page 12

  He took a long gulp of his wine, almost afraid to talk for fear of making things worse. In the end, he could only argue the obvious. “CPAs don’t change the world.”

  “Oh, yeah?” She turned from the railing, her face radiant, her smile so bright it competed with the moonlight. “How do you know?”

  “Because I’m a CPA and I haven’t changed the world.”

  “Really? Look around you. You could have stayed in your parents’ home, working a low-level job for this vineyard, cashing in on your family name. Instead, you left.”

  “Because there was nothing for me here.”

  She opened her arms, waving her wineglass out over the railing. “You just made my point. There is nothing for me at my dad’s vineyard, except to be his employee and hostess. As both of those, I’m under his command. Out here in the world, I can be anything.”

  “You’re a CPA.”

  “Exactly!”

  Riccardo’s head spun. He set his glass on the small table, rose from the chaise and walked over to her. “I meant, you can’t be anything. You have to work within the parameters of your degree.”

  “I know that. I’m just thinking out loud. And we’ve already decided I’m not stupid.”

  He’d never thought she was. From the second he’d seen her giving the stock seminar behind the slot machines, he’d realized she was more than the woman portrayed in the press. More than a woman in trouble. He’d just never realized how perfect she was. How wonderful.

  Her smile grew. She glanced out over the rows of harvested grapes. “Maybe I’ll get a job here.”

  “What?” Wonderful or not, she couldn’t stay here. If the Colonel thought he or Mitch helped her escape, he’d bring the full force of his power down on them.

  “I know Ochoa Vineyards is fully staffed. I was talking about Spain. I’m fluent in Spanish, French and Italian and Mandarin. I love Europe.” She began to pace. “I need to put together a résumé. Start looking at companies, seeing if there’s anywhere I want to work. Any company looking for someone with my skills.”

  “Once again, I think you’re getting ahead of yourself.”

  “I don’t!” She set her glass on the round glass table, walked over to him. “I’m behind where I’m supposed to be. True, I got some experience working for my dad’s companies, but my work was pretty much low-level stuff.”

  “Everybody starts at the bottom.”

  She considered that. “Okay. Good. Since I’ve already started at the bottom, what you’re saying is that I need to find a next-level job.”

  Riccardo groaned. “I’m not saying anything. I’m not giving advice. I’m not making recommendations.”

  “I know. I don’t need your advice. I’ve got this.”

  She stood on her tiptoes and pressed a quick kiss to his lips.

  As if realizing what she’d done, she froze in place.

  Their gazes caught.

  Temptation roared through him. So swift and so strong, he didn’t have time to combat it. She was sweet. She was funny. And she drew him in a way no woman ever had before.

  His hands went to her shoulders, his head descended and his lips pressed to hers with the determination of a man taking what he’d wanted for what seemed like forever.

  His lips slid across hers, tasting a hint of the sugar that had covered her face when he’d arrived, sending a bubble of laughter through him, causing him to take the kiss deeper, to open his mouth and encourage her to open hers. When she did, he plundered. She was like a rare treat, water to a thirsty man.

  She rose to her tiptoes and gave as good as she got. As desperate as he was, she nestled against him and that’s when warning bells began to chime.

  Not because she was a woman who had just gotten out of a relationship, but because of who he was. Right now, he could take anything he wanted from her and she’d let him.

  And then he’d know real regret. Because he wasn’t a man who settled down, not anymore. He was a man who had flings. If they did what he wanted to do right now, he’d walk away tomorrow morning without looking back, and he’d hurt her.

  He broke the kiss and stepped back quickly. “Okay. That’s the last time we’re going to do that.”

  She blinked. Her big blue eyes seemed bigger, shinier. “Why?”

  He walked over to the small table between the chaises, picked up his wine and downed it. “You may not understand this now, but you’re not in any kind of condition to make the decisions you think you want to make.”

  “I think I want to make? There were two of us in that kiss.”

  “Okay, let’s look at this purely from my vantage point. I got involved with a woman who was fresh off a relationship. We were together two years and when her old boyfriend came back, she dropped me. Even after all the time we dated, after accepting an engagement ring, planning our wedding, she’d never gotten over her ex.”

  She fell to the chaise beside him. “Wow.”

  “No matter how angry I wanted to be with her, I had to recognize that I was as much to blame as she was. She was emotionally vulnerable. I didn’t think I’d taken advantage of that. But I sure as hell didn’t give her time to heal.” He shook his head. “No. I thought I could help her heal. But the real bottom line was she wasn’t ready. And here you are a week after running from your wedding. You haven’t even officially talked to Charles yet.”

  Her head came up. “Yes. I did. I called him.”

  His heart stumbled. “You did?”

  She nodded. “I couldn’t very well be looking at you in nothing but a towel when I hadn’t settled things back home.”

  He laughed.

  “You think that’s funny? You think I want the feelings I have for you? I’ve fought them at every turn.”

  “Well, keep fighting them because this—” he motioned from him to her and back to himself again “—is wrong.”

  “I don’t think so. I fought it and fought it and fought it and what I feel keeps getting more and more real.”

  “Okay, then how about this. Getting dumped in such a public way, losing a woman I adored, changed me.” He caught her gaze. “I decided relationships weren’t for me and I learned how to have fun without getting involved. I could easily take what you’re offering and walk away.” He shook his head. “This time I wouldn’t get the broken heart. You would.”

  He turned then, not giving her a chance to reply. He walked through her condo, to his own, where he closed the door, trying to make himself feel safe. Not from her. From himself. He’d never been so tempted by a woman before.

  Then he realized his lips still tingled. He pressed two fingers to his mouth. She’d kissed him.

  And he’d liked it. Really, really liked it. And not just sexually. Morgan was sweet and funny and smart. Everything about her called to him.

  He pushed those thoughts out of his brain. She might find him attractive, she might be ready to move out of her dad’s house, get another job, start another life, but only a week ago she’d been ready to marry another man.

  What if she went home, and in the familiar surroundings of her life realized she’d made a mistake?

  What if she went home, saw Charles and changed her mind?

  The risk was too great.

  With this being his second time of making the same mistake, the potential humiliation was off the charts.

  He should stay away from her. But he couldn’t. He had a father and uncle who wanted to make sure she wouldn’t bring trouble to Ochoa Vineyards. Little did they know, she already had.

  CHAPTER NINE

  MORGAN WAS EATING a croissant from a basket sent over by Nanna the next morning when there was a knock at her door. Done with hoping it was Riccardo—because she’d made an idiot of herself the night before and she didn’t want it to be him, she was surprised when she answered and found him on the threshold.
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  Wearing chinos and a white shirt, he looked like a businessman on casual Friday. Which, unfortunately, appealed to the CPA in her. Her heart tumbled. Memories of their kiss sent warmth through her. But she could not fall in love with him. As he’d said the night before, she wasn’t emotionally ready. It shamed her that he’d had to spell it out for her. To remind her that she’d need time to heal from one relationship before she could start another. But she wouldn’t let him see that. She’d embarrassed herself enough in front of him.

  Glad she’d dressed in jeans and a T-shirt before coming out of her bedroom that morning, she smiled innocently, as if their conversation the night before hadn’t happened. “What’s up?”

  “Today’s an off day.” He shrugged. “I thought I’d take you to town, buy you lunch.”

  “You’re not in charge of my happiness.” It made her feel weird to say it, but it was true. That was another lesson she’d learned after spending the entire day primping, fancying herself up, to see him—only to have him not show up when she thought he should. From here on out, she would stand on her own two feet. Think for herself. Protect herself. Entertain herself.

  “I’m fine. I’ll find something to do.” She pointed to the kitchen island, where Nanna’s tablet still sat. “Maybe I’ll cook something.”

  He laughed. “No. I don’t want you to be bored and I don’t want you to leave Spain with negative feelings after our conversation last night. Let me show you around.”

  Because he asked, didn’t order, she softened a little. He was right. She didn’t want to go home with weird feelings about him. He’d given her the chance to think through her life when her dad wanted him to take her home. And they had gotten along well until she’d kissed him. It only seemed fair that she capitulate, go with him and give them both back the good feelings they’d had toward each other.

  “Okay, give me ten minutes to dress.”

  His eyebrows rose. “Ten minutes?”

  “Seriously. I’ll just change into a sundress and slip into sandals.”

  “No makeup?”

  “Are we meeting royalty?”

  He laughed. “No.”

  She headed for her bedroom. “Then I’m fine.”

  “It’s very warm. You should also bring that sun hat you bought with Nanna.”

  She stopped. It struck her as odd that he remembered an offhand conversation from dinner the first night she got there. Charles sometimes couldn’t remember important things she told him. Riccardo even remembered insignificant details. It filled her heart with something indescribable, then she pushed that thought out of her head.

  He wanted nothing to do with her.

  And who could blame him? The woman who’d canceled his wedding had just left a relationship when she’d met him. It was either a terrible coincidence or a cosmic joke that they’d met right after her breaking up, but she understood.

  Anything between them would be foolish.

  She slipped into a pink sundress, found her sunglasses and snagged the big sun hat Nanna liked.

  When she returned to the sitting room, he was staring out at the deck—where she’d kissed him the night before, then he’d kissed her.

  Really kissed her.

  Her breath wanted to stutter. She stopped it, suddenly realizing that it might be her own fault she was getting feelings for him. Every time something happened between them, she infused it with meaning. Maybe if she’d let herself see the real Riccardo, and stop making a big deal out of everything, these feelings would disappear?

  He turned from the window. “You look great.”

  There. See? Here was her first realization. He was a man who complimented her. Because she wasn’t accustomed to being complimented, she lapped up his praise as if it had more meaning than it did.

  He was right. They needed an outing together. But not so they could remain friends, but so she’d see how badly she continually misinterpreted him.

  “And I’m all ready to go.”

  They walked outside to a red Porsche that sat in front of the condo building. He opened the door for her—like a gentleman, nothing romantic about that at all—and she slid inside.

  As he drove them into the small town where she’d shopped and lunched with Nanna, he pointed out various vineyards, and places he and Mitch had played as kids. In town, they walked along cobblestone streets fronting small businesses in buildings that looked a lot like gingerbread houses from fairy tales. He told her stories about the baker, the hardware store owner and the tavern owner, who was a friend of his, making her laugh enough to remind her that he was a nice guy. A friendly guy. And though that was good, it wasn’t a reason to fall in love. He treated everybody well.

  With the warm sun beating down on them, and the soothing tone of his voice washing over her, she began to feel normal again, except smarter. The sheep in her had died the day she ran away from her wedding. Her thoughts really had cleared in Spain and she had a plan for her life. True, Riccardo had helped her, but maybe it was best not to think about that. It brought all kinds of appreciation to the surface and made her like him again.

  And she didn’t want to like him. It was too soon. Her emotions were scrambled. The cautious part of old Morgan Monroe resurfaced and she let it. Casual Morgan did nothing but get her into trouble.

  They decided on the bistro across from the park for lunch, sitting at a wrought-iron table with matching chairs. The town wasn’t crowded, but tourists strolled the streets. As they finished eating, a mime took up residence at the edge of the park.

  She pointed across the street. “Look at that.”

  “He’s a regular.”

  “He’s very good.”

  “Eh...he’s so-so.”

  She gaped at him. “Really? So-so? Can you juggle three oranges?”

  “Anyone can juggle three oranges.”

  Morgan held back a laugh. Finally, a flaw. The arrogance she’d seen in Vegas was back. And she couldn’t resist teasing him.

  “Do you want to go over and try?”

  He gave her a funny look. “You don’t believe me?”

  Suddenly feeling a little crazy for pushing him, she batted her hand. “Never mind.”

  He shoved his chair back. “You don’t believe me.”

  “It doesn’t matter if I believe you or not.”

  He took her hand and forced her to stand. “Come on. No one calls Riccardo Ochoa a liar.”

  She couldn’t help laughing as he all but dragged her across the quiet street.

  When they reached the mime, he said, “Can I see those?”

  The mime tilted his head in question as his face twisted in confusion, clearly getting his point across without saying a word.

  Morgan pressed her hands to her chest to keep from hugging him. “You’re so good!”

  The mime bowed.

  Riccardo sighed.

  The mime bowed to him and handed over the three oranges. Riccardo took them and juggled them like an expert, even throwing one behind his back without missing a beat. The small crowd that had gathered applauded.

  Done, he handed the oranges back to the mime then took her hand. “There. See. I can juggle.”

  She laughed and pointed behind him as the mime picked up a forth orange and began to juggle more oranges than Riccardo had. “I think you’ve just been bested.”

  He faced the mime. “Are you challenging me?”

  The mime shrugged.

  Laughing, Riccardo took the four oranges from his hands and juggled them with ease. But when he stopped, he didn’t lay down the four oranges, he picked up a fifth.

  Like a pro, he juggled the five oranges. The growing crowd cheered.

  The mime took the five oranges from Riccardo and juggled them but not with the ease Riccardo had. When he stopped, he picked up a sixth orange. He barely managed to juggle all s
ix, but he did it.

  The crowd clapped.

  Grinning, the mime handed the six oranges to Riccardo.

  But Riccardo shook his head, then he bowed. With a laugh, he said, “You are the better juggler.”

  The mime strutted in a small circle. Riccardo applauded him, then dropped some money into the hat the mime had sitting on the ground for donations.

  Walking back to the Porsche, Morgan said, “What did you just do?” She glanced back at the mime, then at Riccardo again. “You’d juggled the five oranges much better than the mime had. You’d have easily done six. Why’d you give up?”

  He said nothing.

  “Oh, my gosh! You lost on purpose!” The craziness of it caused her to stop walking.

  He opened the car door for her.

  She stared at him as she rolled the whole thing around in her brain. “You didn’t want to embarrass him.”

  He pointed at the door and she scrambled over and got inside. He closed the door and rounded the car, getting in behind the steering wheel.

  “Admit it.” She almost added, You lost on purpose because you saw how he bobbled the five oranges and didn’t want to embarrass him.

  But when the truth of it sunk in, she closed her mouth. He wouldn’t want credit for that. She glanced at the mime, who was happily juggling his oranges, bowing when someone tossed money in his hat, and her heart swelled. She wasn’t falling in love with Riccardo Ochoa because she was needy...or because she was on the rebound. He was a great guy. Unlike anybody she’d ever met. And very much like somebody she’d want in her life forever.

  * * *

  Riccardo walked her to her door, annoyed with himself for challenging the mime. It had been easy enough to get out of the contest when he saw the man wasn’t as skilled as he was. But Morgan had seen right through it.

  Because she was smart. And he loved that she was smart. The combination of beauty and brains just about had him mesmerized. But that was the problem. They weren’t right for each other. She was a woman who’d just got out of a serious relationship, and he was a guy who had built protective walls because he’d been hurt by someone who’d just got out of a serious relationship.